


Getting Nowhere Fast

by JCF



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCF/pseuds/JCF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam. Ghostie. Dean and a revolving door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Nowhere Fast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester. They are the amazing brain children of Eric Kripke and the writing team of Supernatural. Any and all original characters, however, do belong to me.  
  
**Author's Note:** This fanfic not a new fic. I originally wrote it back in 2006, and it was originally posted it on fanfiction.net. I like to think my writing has improved a bit since I wrote this. At any rate, I do hope you enjoy this little ditty. I had a great deal of fun writing it; it practically wrote itself. (It is also set where it is set because, you write about what you know, right?)

 

 

I looked up at the large concrete building. For a seventy-nine year old building, it was certainly in good condition, and I found myself almost gazing up at it. It was quite amazing in my opinion. Although, the real beauty, I'd heard, was on the inside. Wasn't it always?

I opened the trunk, quickly unlocking the weapons box. Sam and I, as discretely as possible, put a couple of pistols inside our jackets and I gathered up the rather large duffel bag. According to reports, a spirit, known as the Lady In Red(*) had been spotted within the confines of this building, and the tunnels beneath it. It wasn't specified if this woman was harmless or not, although nobody had ever been hurt by her. Heedless to say, it was worth checking out, if not for the spirit, for the historical building she was in.

"Okay," Sam spoke. I turned to him as I closed the trunk. "What exactly is this place, and what are we dealing with?"

"Union Station," I replied. "The southern-most part of Downtown Toronto, and according to commuters and workers alike, there have been sightings of a Lady In Red. It's not said that she's harmed anyone, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

Sam nodded. "Okay. Well, let's get inside, and see what we've got."

I agreed, and after putting a shit-load of change in the parking meter, headed towards the front doors of the large station. I couldn't believe it. Two dollars an hour? Where these people desperate? I knew I would end up with a parking ticket by the end of the day, but it was a small price to pay for doing my part to make this city a safer place for its inhabitants.

  
I followed Sam inside, and my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This place __was__ beautiful. The floors were a very stunning amber, the stair railings were gold-toned, the ceiling reminded me of a cathedral, and everything was __clean__. To my left, at the east end of the foyer, a maintenance worker was mopping the floors. As if they weren't clean enough as it was! On the same end the maintenance worker, a huge horseshoe-shaped window was set in the concrete, letting natural light from outside stream in, and there were numerous square windows at the top of all four walls. In front of the window, a clock with a lit face gave us the time: 8:30pm. The country's provincial flags hung from small masts about halfway up the wall in front of me, and about a third of the way up all four walls, the names of various Canadian cities were engraved in the rock.  
  
"Well." Sam's voice made me jump slightly. I hadn't been paying attention to him. He smirked and rolled his eyes at me, but didn't mock me. "Let's find this subway platform, and see what we're dealing with."  
  
I nodded, prying my eyes away from the amber-ness of the foyer, and turned for the corridor in the far right corner, following the signs. We started down a ramp, ending up in what looked like a waiting lounge, I guessed was used by the passengers in the 1800's, then followed a flight of stairs down one level.

"Okay, so how long has this subway been running for?" Sam asked.

"As of March, fifty-two years," I replied. "And before that, this station connected the railway to cities across Canada in the 1800s."

"Wow," Sam rose his eyebrows. "This place has a lot of history."

I sighed. "I know. We just have to try and figure out which part belongs to the spirit."

"We're going to have tons of fun." The level of sarcasm in Sam's voice was almost enough to make me laugh. Had this not been such a serious issue, I would have. Instead, I smirked.

We continued down, and finally arrived at the subway platform, which to my disappointment, was not nearly as extravagant as the floors above. It was a deep orange, and reminded me of a honeycomb. Quite a few people lined the platform, which separated the two northbound subway lines. I looked around the area, and had a feeling it would be another two or three hours before we would catch any sighting of this Lady In Red. Sam and I sat down on one of the benches, and waited, watching the station surge with people, and the trains come in and out, feeling the rush of air as they pulled in. For a busy place, the platform was relatively quiet when there was no train howling in or out.

The number of people dwindled to none, and it was almost 1AM by the time something caught our ears. We could hear the sound of heeled shoes ascending the concrete stairs behind us. Sam and I got up, and slowly, followed the sound. I went to climb the first step, and that was when I saw her. She was standing… er, floating at the top of the stairs. She was in a red dress, but I couldn't see any legs extending from the hem of her dress. I didn't see her to be a threat; I wasn't afraid of her. In fact, I found that I pitied her. What had happened to her? Even the locals had no idea of what happened to her.

For all of thirty seconds, she stood there, just staring at Sam and I. Her eyes never left us, even as her form started to just simply disappear. Within about three seconds, she was gone, and there was absolutely no trace of her having been there. Sam and I stood there for a long moment, before looking to each other.

"I guess she's just a restless spirit," Sam said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Yeah, I guess," I agreed. "She's nothing to worry about."

Sam smiled. "Well, let's get back to the hotel and get some sleep."

I nodded vehemently. "I agree. Let's go."

We headed up the stairs, and headed for the nearest exit, which was a pair of revolving doors, made of a series of steel bars, and another set of regular doors, obviously not part of the original building. I slew my duffle bag over my shoulder, cringing at the size and weight of it, and made a beeline for the door on the right.

I pushed the door, and due to the size of the bag, had to squeeze through to the inside of the door. Having not seen Sam go anywhere, I turned to see where he was. Bad idea. I tried to continue moving through, but found I couldn't. I looked around the inside of the door. What the hell had I done? All I did was turn… I couldn't believe it. I was  _ _stuck__  in a _ _revolving door__. A  _ _revolving door__ or Christ's sake! This wasn't good.

I could hear Sam laughing, his voice high-pitched, his cheeks red, a huge amused smile on his face. Great… He was royally amused, and far too busy laughing at me to actually get over here and help me. Plus, he'd gone through the other door, and was now waiting for me.

How the hell had I managed this? This was so embarrassing. I always got myself out of scraps with some of the worst Poltergeists, yet I couldn't find my way out of a revolving door? How the hell did that happen? There's only one possible way for a revolving door to go!

I looked to Sam. "Would you stop laughing and get your ass over here and help me?" I asked, probably more harshly than I should've.

He stopped laughing. For two seconds. He snorted, then broke out laughing again.

I could feel my cheeks heating up from embarrassment. Damn duffle bag… And damn my brother. When I got out of here, he was in for an ass-whopping. Okay… How did I get into this mess? I turned… I tried to turn the other way, but the duffle bag wouldn't give any. Shit. Alright. Maybe if I slid out? Nope. I still couldn't move. Shit, I was getting nowhere fast… Literally. Maybe there was enough room for me to squeeze my arm out of the straps? Slowly, I pulled my right arm back, feeling very much like a pretzel and like I was about to dislocate my shoulder by the time I was done. I felt the straps fall off of my shoulder. I moved my feet forward a couple of inches, and the bag fell to the floor behind me. Yes! I turned around successfully, and picked up the duffle bag, carrying it in front of me length-ways. The damn thing was more than half my height. With the bag in front of me, I moved, and much to my relief, made it out of the door. Finally… I was free!

Sam was still laughing, his cheeks as red as a stop sign. "You should've seen the look on your face… Priceless, Dean, priceless."

"I'm glad you think so," I muttered. Inwardly however, I was fighting laughter myself. I knew once we got outside and out of here, I would look back on this event, and laugh hysterically. But at the moment… Shit… I was cracking… My lips quivered, a smile threatening to form. I reached over, and smacked my brother up-side the head.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do?"

"You were laughing at me!" I replied, more than ever trying to fight that threatening smile. "And you didn't even help!"

He didn't answer me; he just continued to laugh.

"You bastard." The smile broke through, and I found myself on the verge of laughter. My chest wracked with imprisoned laughter, and my shoulders started to shake slightly. Crap. So much for my stern demeanor. Ah, fuck, what was the point? I knew Sam wasn't going to let me live it down, but how could I really be angry about it? I got stuck in a _ _revolving door__ ; it's something that happens to everyone, and everyone comes out alive, and more often than not, embarrassed but with a smile on their face.

I let myself go, my laughter intermingling with my brother's, as we headed for the door leading outside. We got to the car, and sure enough, there was a parking ticket on the windshield. Sam got the ticket, while I put everything back in the trunk, still smiling to myself. I got in the car, glancing cautiously over at my brother in the passenger seat. We made eye contact and broke out in laughter again.

"I can't believe you managed to get yourself stuck in a revolving door," Sam spoke. "Of all the crap you've gotten yourself in and out of, a  _ _revolving door__  is your downfall?"

"Shut up," I smiled. I paused. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope. Sorry, Dean."

I sighed. I started up the car, and pulled out into the still steadily moving downtown traffic. I sat back in the seat, driving towards the motel, the smile on my face all the way there. What a way to end a day.

 

 

(*)The Lady In Red is a real spirit in a Toronto Subway station, but it's not at Union. She haunts the tunnels near the Old Bay Station, also called, the Lower Bay St. Station, which is now underneath the modern Bay St. Station the public uses. Several graveyard shift TTC employers and those who work in the area have seen her.


End file.
